


Creation

by Solanaceae



Series: Femslash Friday [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (actually no probably not), F/F, Femslash Friday, because it's probably still Friday somewhere, but really i'm sorry this is late, that AU where Nerdanel is queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solanaceae/pseuds/Solanaceae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerdanel leaves Aman to find something out, and returns with new knowledge - and creates. Nerdanel/Indis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creation

**Author's Note:**

> Established Nerdanel/Indis, because co-queen AUs are the best and also [tzig-reblogs](http://tzig-reblogs.tumblr.com/) suggested this [here](http://silmladylove.tumblr.com/post/60220694623/tzig-reblogs-aaa-yes-good-heres-another-idea) (relevant part below).
>
>> _Nerdanel being Nerdanel, the curious, the woman who walked to the ends of the earth alone just to see what was beyond, is the only one who takes any action to figure out who and what Ungoliant was and where she came from_
>> 
>> _and tracks her back to Avathar to find out how something Eru did not make found her way in to Ea, and to see if she can somehow backwards engineer Ungoliant_
>> 
>> _(because throughout her life Nerdanel has been trying to convince Aule to tell her how he made the dwarves, and maybe he’s let slip more than he should….)_
>> 
>> _and maybe at some point we have an offshoot story about Nerdanel’s sculptures just suddenly waking up one day and walking around like a lot of Pygmalion’s Galateas_

“But don’t you understand, it must have come from _somewhere_ –” Nerdanel’s eyes blazed with a feverish intensity as she paced back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Indis recognized the gesture as one of Nerdanel’s signals, a way to busy her hand when she needed to be creating something, giving life to the idea which had just struck her. Considering the topic of their conversation, Indis had to wonder what thoughts were whirling behind those flashing eyes.

_Something bore Melkor here_ , Nerdanel had insisted when she burst through the door, _and I want to find it._

“I thought all things came from the same source,” she ventured, resisting the urge to seize Nerdanel’s shoulders, make her stand still – all the nervous energy in the room was making her tense. “And isn’t this all – what does this have to do with everything that’s going on? Isn’t focusing on this not – not really relevant?”

“Not really _relevant_?” Nerdanel spun to face Indis, an incredulous look spreading across her face. “Indis, the whole _reason_ there’s chaos in Tirion is because of this damnable darkness! If we can discover the machinations behind the cause of this problem, the true nature of the perpetrator, maybe we can reverse the Darkening!”

_The only way to reverse that is lost forever_ , Indis thought, but did not say, and – _Do you think me so blind, that I cannot see your true motives?_ It was insatiable curiosity that drove Nerdanel now, for whatever reason, and any benefits to the rest of the world would be incidental, hardly a part of her final goal. Leaving now did no one but her any good, and perhaps even harm to the rest of the Noldor – they needed Nerdanel here, leading them in the place of their king, who had died (or their king who had sworn an oath, or their king who had followed him – there were many kings, it seemed, but none of them were here).

“You can keep court while I’m away,” Nerdanel added, as though she had read Indis’ mind – and she might have done the next best thing, because there was little Nerdanel could not now read in Indis’ face, and vice versa. It came from ruling together, from trying to keep a scattered, frightened people safe in a city that was now mostly deserted, most of the houses empty and echoing, their inhabitants departed north and east, across the Sea. They had to be able to read each other, because if they did not work together the Noldor would fall apart. It was that simple.

Indis knew Nerdanel well enough that she knew the futility of arguing with her – and yet it was something she did anyway, trying to keep her from leaving, and if there was a reason it was a simple one, and nothing personal: it was for the greater good, and she was thinking of her people.

(If she also remembered the last time she had let someone she loved leave her side, if she remembered a broken body on the floor and bloody robes and an unrecognizably mutilated face, a face she had kissed countless times, and once in farewell not knowing it was forever – well, some things wouldn’t ever be forgotten.)

“Whether or not I can keep court doesn’t matter, if the Noldor see their queen haring off on some – some _quest_ that has no knowable end, and no way of accomplishment–”

“So you don’t tell them where I’m going.” Nerdanel was packing her bag now, throwing in whatever came to hand, and Indis recognized the reckless glint in her eyes not only because she had seen it in them just before Nerdanel did something stupid (and brave and incredible), but because that had also been the light in the eyes of her grandson when he came to tell her that they were leaving – forever.

“That would be even worse! You’re not just a sculptor anymore, you’re not just the wife of the crown prince, you can’t just up and leave us – leave _me_ here, Nerdanel. Please.” Nerdanel turned towards the door. Indis grabbed her arm, pulled her back. “You don’t even know where you’re going. Just–”

“I’m going to Middle-earth. To find out what that thing was that Melkor brought with him. If Ilúvatar did not make it, then it must have come from somewhere – and it’s already been proven that Eru isn’t the only one who can create life, we know that.”

Indis’ eyes widened, and Nerdanel yanked her arm away, breaking free. “Surely you – you aren’t thinking of–”

“All I’m saying is, there’s a lot out there. And why shouldn’t I be able to see everything?” She leaned in, kissed Indis lightly on her lips. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

She watched Nerdanel sweep out the door, wondering why she was suddenly so afraid – and why that had felt like a goodbye.

* * *

Indis was good at hiding her fear. It was something she had practiced over the years – something she could do all the time, hiding it even from herself. Nerdanel would be back – of course she’d be back. There was no reason to believe otherwise.

Nothing besides the fact that the last time she had let someone go, they had ended up dead.

No one came to the palace in Tirion seeking the queen, no one even seemed to notice her absence. With fewer Noldor in the city, there were fewer problems for the court to solve – and since Nerdanel and Indis had sorted out most of the major issues facing their people, the city seemed able to run smoothly on its own, at least for a little while. There was nothing for Indis to do but look over and over the paperwork the previous ministers of agriculture had left when they joined all the others in exile (and all the other ministers, at that – for all intents and purposes, apart from a handful of advisors who offered few suggestions and even fewer genuinely _helpful_ ones, Nerdanel and Indis were running a two-woman court for the two thousand or so Noldor that had remained in Tirion).

The city was ruling itself. She sat on the throne, for now, and nothing to do on it except think – and worry.

_Where are you, Nerdanel?_

She was almost angry – almost, but not quite, because every time she came close to cursing her for leaving, she remembered the fierce light in Nerdanel’s eyes when she spoke of leaving, the desire for more beyond this darkened, empty paradise.

Nerdanel had always been the one traveling to the very edge of the world, peering into the darkness beyond just to see what was there. Indis had never ventured farther from Tirion than Alqualondë.

It came to her (perhaps belatedly) that she could have insisted Nerdanel at least wait long enough for her to pack her own bag and take off with her, travel north or east or wherever she had ended up going in search of the source of the darkness that had come to their land. At least then they would have been together – died together, if need be.

_And if she is dead?_

She couldn’t imagine a future without the laughing, fiery elf beside her. It had been different with Finwë – she had sometimes wondered what it would be like to wake to an empty bed, and when that became a reality she cried herself to sleep, but slept, in the end. Without Nerdanel – perhaps nothing.

_I should have gone with her._

* * *

When Nerdanel finally returned, she did so without fanfare, slipping into Indis’ study around midnight, opening the door soundlessly and standing there, waiting for her to look up. Indis took her for a servant, at first, and did not look up from the papers before her until Nerdanel cleared her throat and spoke, voice low and amused.

“You look busy.”

Indis’ head snapped up, her mouth working soundlessly. She took in the sight of the queen, standing in the center of her study with her cloak thrown over one arm, red hair tangled and gleaming in the candlelight, as though she had sprung out of the ground or materialized from thin air.

“I – you–” The words died in her mouth, and she shook her head with disbelief.

“I’m back, yes.” Nerdanel smiled, and in the dim light her face looked drawn and pale – far more tired than it had been before she left. Indis rose, hands shaking, the papers slipping from between her fingers. She crossed the room on suddenly weak legs, stretching out a hand to Nerdanel, clutching her arm tight, suddenly afraid that she wasn’t really there at all, that this was a vision of some sort – but no, she was truly here, and real, and suddenly Indis was in her arms, face buried in her shoulder. She felt her queen’s arms wrap about her, heard the soft shudder of her breathing.

“You were gone so long, I thought–” _Thought you were dead, thought you had left like all the others – was that foolish of me?_ She pulled away, keeping her hands tight on Nerdanel’s shoulders, afraid she would disappear again. For the first time, she noticed the long tear up the side of Nerdanel’s tunic, the faded stains of something too dark to be anything but blood. “You’re hurt.”

“I was, but it’s fine now. You can’t expect me to travel halfway around the world and not receive some slight injury for my troubles, can you?” Nerdanel offered her a smile, and Indis remembered the reasons she had fallen in love with her in the first place – fearless curiosity, reckless fire. Some things, perhaps, were still simple.

She pressed her fingers to Nerdanel’s side, seeking, and peeled back the torn fabric. The wound had been cleaned – and very well, at that – and seemed mostly scabbed over. Still, it looked like it had been deep, and she shuddered to think about what might have caused it.

_Was it what you went after, Nerdanel? Did the monster in the shadows have claws you did not expect?_

Nerdanel reached up, cupping her chin in long fingers and lifting her face. “Indis. I am fine. It was merely a scratch–”

“Merely a _scratch_?” she repeated, pulling her head away. “It could’ve killed you, it could’ve maimed you, I don’t even want to know how _big_ that damned thing must have been to bear Melkor here and back and you _went after it_ –”

“Yes. It might leave a scar. Would that bother you?” Nerdanel tilted her head to one side, a teasing twitch at the corner of her mouth, and Indis shook her head.

“You know it wouldn’t. You know I would love you all the more for it.” A sign of bravery – that was what scars were believed to be, were they not? Badges of honor, tokens of survival in the face of dangerous odds. It was fitting, then, for Nerdanel – but did not lessen the fact that Indis had been terrified for her.

“Did you find out whatever it was you were looking for, at least?” she finally asked.

Nerdanel grinned. “Yes. All that and more. There was so much to gather just from watching, and once I got even closer – well. I’ll have to work a few things out in my workshop before I can make any definite statements, you know.”

 

 

Indis nodded, understanding. A few things to work out, no doubt on a world-changing scale – that should take Nerdanel a few days at the most. And then perhaps things would return to normal. But she was back, and that was what mattered.

 

“Will you – will you let me welcome you home before you hole up in that stuffy workshop of yours?” She slipped the cloak from Nerdanel’s arm and draped it over the back of her chair. “You look like you haven’t slept in a bed for months.”

 

“That would be nice.” Nerdanel smiled, pressing a kiss to Indis’ forehead. “Lead me to this bed you speak of, milady.”

* * *

Indis woke to an empty bed with a golden glow within, a content happiness replacing the empty longing of the past weeks. She put a hand out, felt the rumpled sheets beside her – still warm. Nerdanel must have stolen out only a few moments ago, not wanting to wake her.

Nerdanel did not emerge from her workshop that day, nor the one after that. Occasionally, the scrap of her chisel on stone or the soft clatter of her tools would be audible through the thick wooden door – not that Indis spent much time at all with her ear pressed to the wood, holding her breath and wondering what on earth she was up to in there.

(Nothing dangerous, she hoped, but then again, this was Nerdanel, and one never knew. Remembering the earliest prototypes of Nerdanel’s agricultural lampstones, she made sure there were a few extra firebuckets filled and set near the workshop door.)

A few Noldor came, the first since before Nerdanel’s excursion, asking for an audience with the Queen. Indis informed them that she was unfortunately occupied with important matters of state (she did not add that she had no idea what those matters Nerdanel was in fact concerning herself with, or whether they had anything to do with governing – it was best to leave some things unsaid). She handled their complaints as she had seen Finwë handle such (and Nerdanel, most recently), and sent them away with a tightness in her stomach, a slow elation spreading through her – I _could do this, I could rule, I am capable of holding court in my own name though none have ever thought I was._

Yet Nerdanel’s golden circlet sat oddly on her head, and she found that the vantage from the throne was far more lonely than she had ever expected. She took to pacing the hall in front of Nerdanel’s workshop, ears straining for any noise, however slight, and fighting down the urge to wrench the door open and drag Nerdanel out.

She never would, of course. Nerdanel was creating something, sparked by whatever she had found on her journey – and Indis would just have to wait if she wanted to find out what that was.

It was on the evening of the fourth day that she finally heard something loud and clear through the workshop door: a low grinding noise, the grate of stone on stone, and then a tremendous crash that made her jump a little, heart stuttering.

She heard Nerdanel’s surprised exclamation, muffled by the thick wood, and finally dared to set her hand on the knob and turn, opening the door just a crack. She could see Nerdanel with her back towards the door, some tool in her hand, the clear light of the lampstones ringing her in a halo of light.

“Nerdanel?”

Her queen turned, body still blocking whatever it was that had caused the crash, and Indis recognized the light in her eyes as one of triumph.

“You’ll never believe this, Indis,” she breathed, gesturing for her to come inside.

Indis cautiously swung the door wider, then shut it behind her as she entered. She kept her eyes on Nerdanel, noting something moving in the shadows further back – was there someone in here with her?

“Did I ever tell you that I spoke with Aulë once, when I was much younger, after my father told me of his deeds in Middle-earth?” Nerdanel took Indis’ hand, smiling. “He told me – well, he told me much, and perhaps I learned more than he expected. And then chasing Ungoliant halfway across the world, discovering her origins–”

“What - what were those origins?” The noises in the back of the workshop were getting louder. Someone – or some _thing_ – was shuffling around back there, moving closer to the two of them. Indis’ grip tightened around Nerdanel’s hand.

“From beyond.” There was a fire in Nerdanel’s eyes, a humming tension beneath her motions, and Indis was almost afraid. “And if Eru did not make her – and if Aulë created in rebellion of the One – then the power of creation is not limited solely to the keeper of the Imperishable Flame.”

“You didn’t–” _You did. You – you broke every law governing this world, you dared step beyond that which was ordained for us..._ There was something rising in Indis, and if it wasn’t quite fear it wasn’t exactly excitement, either. More – trepidation.

Nerdanel grinned. “Come and see, Indis.” Still holding her hand tight, she led her to the back of the workshop. Indis could see a pale figure now, moving in the shadows, shuffling on unsteady legs into the light. Chips of stone the same marble-white as its skin littered the floor, pale in the candlelight, yet the thing that stepped out from the darkness was not made of cold rock, nor colored with paint. It was living, breathing – and Nerdanel had created it, breathed life into it, made it _live_.

It – she, for it was formed as a female – bore the same stamp of eerie likeness to true life as many of Nerdanel’s creations, but the golden hair that fell before her grey eyes was not of stone, and when she turned to look inquisitively at her creator it was a smooth motion, made by muscle under skin instead of cold marble. She was very nearly perfectly formed, in every aspect – and there was nothing to obscure her body, either, for Nerdanel had not shaped her with clothing, but she did not seem aware that her nakedness was something to be ashamed of.

Indis glanced at Nerdanel, not sure what she was supposed to say, and was almost surprised by the fierce light shining there, as though the act of creation had flipped a switch within her, changed her. But the smile curving her lips was a familiar one, and when she leaned in to press her lips to Indis’ cheek her kiss was still the same.

“Indis, this is Ninquewendë.”

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Galatea’ translates in Ancient Greek to ‘she who is milk-white’; hence ‘Ninquewendë’ - ‘white-maiden’.


End file.
